Cecelia.

Chapter 3: Uhh

I fell asleep. I fucking fell asleep in his arms. Yes, I asked him to stay. Yes, I was scared shitless last night. Yes, I know. Oh. My. God. My head was currently on his chest, I could hear his heart beating, while his arms were wrapped around me; we were somewhat still in the same position from last night except he was half lying on my beanbag.

I could not seem to move. I was afraid that if I did, I would shatter the calm that had befallen us since last night; but at the same time I could not just let everything of the past go. He had hurt me. Me; his best friend. Ex-bestfriend, I had to remind myself.

Determination set in my eyes, I set to disentangling myself from him. As soon as I picked up one of his arms, he tightened his hold and turned around causing both of us to fall on the carpet; I was still trapped in his arms, and this time I couldn't just disentangle myself. I was uncomfortably squished halfway under him.

I struggled against his weight, "Will, you jerk, Lâchez-moi! Oublie moi avant que je fasse quelque chose que l'on regrettera tous les deux!!" Yes, when I got angry, I started yelling in French.

Will groaned, "Que se passe-t-il?"

And then, "Wha- what are you doing under me, chère?" Will smirked, and I smacked him.

"Get off," I grumbled.

"No," he winked, adjusting his weight on his arms, so I was not squished anymore and smirked down at me. I pushed against his chest, and- oh boy, these muscles - no, he needs to get off of me. Will, the annoying jerk, was still smirking down at me.

"What," I huffed. "Do you want?!"

"Nothing, petit amie," his smirk turned into a boyish grin, and his eyes softened, making breathing extremely difficult; especially with our close proximity.

"Then get off," my voice was noticeably smaller.

"Chère, I miss you."

My heart. I turned my face away, the beanbag was suddenly very interesting. I pulled my hands away from Williams chest, where they were still unconsciously resting, and put them on my stomach. I really hoped William could not hear my heart beat; but with our proximity, who knew? I was willing myself not to think, because thinking led to crying, and I was not an emotional mess like Will was making me.

He knew all my weaknesses, and strengths, he knew which parts in what movies made me emotional, and what parts made me laugh; he knew how much I loved anything chocolate and despised anything ginger. He knew just what to do to get me to sleep when I could not; he had been there on my worst days and best. He had bought me a stash of junk food everytime it was my time-of-month, and he had taken all my mood swings with a smile on his face. He knew what would hurt me most, and I will never understand why, but he used it against me, just like he was using my moment of emotional weakness against me right now.

"Get off!" I was angry now. Sad and angry. I shoved him as hard as I could, using all the strength I could muster, but he did not budge. "You think you can use my emotional weakness to my advantage, dear William. You're wrong, you can't."

My shoves had not pushed him off, but my words now did. He widened his eyes and approached me as he saw my eyes fill with tears, and spill over despite my trying to keep them at bay, but I moved back, "Don't move.

I hate you for what you did to me," I said in a cold, calm voice, enunciating every word. "And I will never forgive you. Calling you last night was a mistake. Another mistake I made out of habit. Everything since last night has been a mistake, and I am sorry."

I paused to take in a shaky breathe and wiped my tears off using my shirt sleeve, and then continued,

"You are William Lancaster, a guy who goes to my school, and you mean nothing to me. Goodbye."

With that, I turned around and climbed down the tree house ladder. I checked my phone for the time: 0924. It was still early, which meant I could check into a hotel without anyone noticing. I was hoping William would not follow me out, but knowing him, I was sure he would and that is why I had to hurry.

As soon as I got to the car, I tried the door and for once fate was on my side door was open. I quickly opened the boot, and grabbed my bags. Thankfully there was a cab-stand at the park, and it was empty of people which meant I could get a cab pretty easily.

Telling the cab driver the hotel I needed to get to, he helped me load my bags into the boot. Just as I was about to get in, I heard him.

"Grace! Mon ange! Please stop," he was running towards me pretty fast, but he would not be able to reach me in time. I gave him a smirk, and got in the cab.

"Let's go now, monsieur," I said to the cab driver.

With that we were off. I fell asleep on the drive over as it was about an hour away. I wanted to be safe, so I would not run into anybody I might know. I woke up with a jolt as the cab parked outside Hotel de Plazzio. I handed the driver the money, and was about to get out when the cab-driver spoke up, in French of course, "madame, if you don't mind me saying, you should clean up your face before going inside."

I looked at my fave in the rearview mirror with horror; mascara waa crisscrossing my cheeks and my eyes were bloodshot, circles with now smudged kohl making me look like a wild panda bear. The cab driver handed me the box of tissues, and I got to cleaning my face. After I had wiped of all the access makeup, I got out my makeup bag and reapplied, making myself feel more human.

"Merci, monsieur," I bowed my head a little and smiled, he then proceeded to help me with my luggage, carrying it inside for me. After checking in and getting my keys, I saw the distinct outline of somebody I had a showdown with this morning.

"How did you find me?" I questioned, calmly.

"I followed the cab," he replied in a matter-of-fact voice, pushing his hands in his pocket. I simply nodded at him and smiled, walking past him to the elevator. Apparently taken aback by my change in attitude, he caught on to my absence too late, and I was already in the elevator, and the doors closed. I heard a muffled fuck, before the doors closed and he almost banged into it. I laughed lightly, anticipating the hot bath awaiting me.

***

So? Thoughts?

Please don't be silent readers, I want to see if I can actually work this out and I need you guys to support me.

Pliss vote and comment.

Question: do you guys think Cecelia/Grace should forgive him already?
What's your favourite colour?
Thunder, or lightening?

Love to those following the story, love you little wolfies. ♡♡

Xoxo,
Red.